


Day 21: Laced Drink

by Aelaer



Series: Whumptober 2019 [21]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Comedy, Gen, Multi, One of the more ridiculous takes on this trope, Stephen Strange Bingo 2019, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 04:23:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21265010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aelaer/pseuds/Aelaer
Summary: "Do you want the good news or bad news first?" Quill asked.Stephen pushed himself up with one arm, grimacing against his still-splitting headache. "Bad news.""Okay, the bad news is that those Correrans totally spiked our drinks and have locked us in here."He blinked a couple times. Well, that explained the headache. "The good news?""They don't seem to want to kill us and, uh, it's actually pretty comfortable in here, so long as you don't mind the gawkers."More blinking. "The what?"Quill pointed beyond him, and Stephen turned to look over his shoulder only to see a couple dozen Correrans, including some smaller ones, gawking at him. One of the smaller ones pressed himself (or herself, or itself; he honestly wasn't sure) against the glass for further staring.Stephen grimaced and looked back to Quill. "Don't tell me this is a zoo of some sort.""It's a zoo of some sort," Quill replied.





	Day 21: Laced Drink

**Author's Note:**

> This is a decidedly more comedic spin on the trope, but the rest of the month was a bit nasty so, you know, this was a deep breath before the plunge.

Stephen woke up feeling like it was the day after finals in college were over, because his head was pounding with every heartbeat and it was honestly the worst he remembered feeling in some months. What the hell had he been drinking?

… _had he_ been drinking? His memory was rather fuzzy in that department, which was always a cause for concern. He tried to open his eyes, but the light was entirely too bright and he groaned softly.

"Strange? You awake?"

His brow furrowed. The voice sounded… vaguely familiar. Not overly familiar, but he definitely knew it. Lifting a hand to cover his eyes, he slowly peeled them open again, letting them adjust to the half-darkness of his palm before fully unveiling them.

He was staring up at a concrete-looking ceiling of some sort; there was a light fixture just in the corner of his eyes, which explained the sharp brightness. He closed his eyes again and rolled to his side to try and get up; it felt like he was on a bed of some sort.

Opening them again, he found he was now staring at Peter Quill (oh, right, he was off-planet to take care of a series of rifts that Captain Marvel and the Guardians had found). Quill was lounging on an easy chair in the corner, his languid posture offset by a look of vague irritation.

"Do you want the good news or bad news first?" he asked.

Stephen pushed himself up with one arm, grimacing against his still-splitting headache. "Bad news," he said as he ever-so-slowly got himself sitting on the bed to properly face the spaceship pilot.

"Okay, the bad news is that those Correrans totally spiked our drinks and have locked us in here."

He blinked a couple times. Well, that explained the headache. "The good news?"

"They don't seem to want to kill us and, uh, it's actually pretty comfortable in here, so long as you don't mind the gawkers."

More blinking. "The what?"

Quill pointed beyond him, and Stephen turned to look over his shoulder only to see a couple dozen Correrans, including some smaller ones, gawking at him. One of the smaller ones pressed himself (or herself, or itself; he honestly wasn't sure) against the glass for further staring.

Stephen grimaced and looked back to Quill. "Don't tell me this is a zoo of some sort."

"It's a zoo of some sort," Quill replied, "but from what Gamora told me, they don't actually keep species capable of complex thought here. They're only supposed to keep injured people until they're better— and you get to be on display for their services. That's how it's supposed to go, anyway."

"That doesn't explain why they drugged us."

Quill ran a hand through his hair. "Yeahhhh, so. I, uh, I might have heard about that, too." Stephen looked expectantly at him. "Okay, so, you know the rift you just closed here?" He slowly nodded. "Yeah, so, that glade it was in. Apparently it's a special glade."

"A special glade."

"Yeah, a _really_ special glade."

Stephen raised his brows. "And that means?"

He looked up at the ceiling. "Weeeell, I might have heard that you're only supposed to enter that glade if you're getting married."

A beat.

"Please do not tell me—"

"Yeah, according to them, we're married." He looked away from Stephen at the wall. "And Correrans sort of, uh, are expected to get on with it in the glade."

"What."

"Yeah… and we didn't, so they put us in here…" He bobbed his head from side to side and lifted his hands upward in a rather open shrug.

Stephen looked over his shoulder again. "This is rather voyeuristic of them."

"I don't think the Correrans really have an understanding of privacy," Quill deadpanned. "Anyway, can you get us out of here? They took my weapons and I've already tried breaking the glass with the chair. I'm not sure what material they're using, but it didn't budge."

He patted his belt and shook his head. "They took my sling-ring, so no portals." He carefully got to his feet and scoped the room they were in, then approached the thick glass-like wall and placed a shaky hand against it to get an idea of its structure. A moment later, he concluded he could definitely shatter it with an outward blast of some sort.

On the other side of the glass, one of the little Correrans waved at him. Stephen let out a low sigh. Blast them out and slaughter a bunch of Correran families in the process. Not happening. "Do they just want us to, as you said, 'get on with it' to complete the so-called marriage?"

"Uh, yeah, I think so."

"They'd let us go then?"

"From what Gamora told me, yeah— they don't keep people permanently."

Stephen looked out at the Correrans, then sighed again. "Well, I've been in worse situations," he said, then turned around to face Quill so he didn't have to look at a bunch of gawking aliens as he began to fiddle with his belts.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Quill shouted, jumping to his feet. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Stephen raised a brow. "You said that they would let us go if we, well, consummate the marriage. It's hardly an ideal situation, but not difficult to do. Do you prefer bottom or top?"

"Bottom or t— what, no no no. Man, I've seen how crazy powerful you are; can't you just blast the glass apart?"

"Not without hurting the Correrans on the other side."

"The Corre— they're the ones that locked us in here in the first place!"

"Not those ones," Stephen answered, gesturing towards the alien families. "Those are families. With _children_."

Quill groaned, long and loud. "Fine, no blasting glass right now! But they can't stand there forever. The moment it's clear, then you blast it."

He shrugged. "Fine. And then what? Do you know the way out of here?"

"... I'll figure it out. We can't fly without your cape-thing, right?"

"Cloak. And I can try, but if they have something that's the equivalent of tranquilizer darts, it won't go very well."

Quill let out a loud sigh. "Why'd you have to go and get your cloak damaged?"

Stephen thought somewhat longingly for the cloak, which was still within the Benatar up in space as it spent time repairing itself. They had taken a pod down to the surface, as Stephen had not wanted to draw too much attention. So much for that plan. "It wasn't on purpose. Besides, we can't leave until we find my sling ring."

He groaned again, then admitted, "Yeah, probably don't want to leave that thing behind. I want my blaster, too." He collapsed back into the chair. "Fine, fine. We'll do it your way."

"If my way doesn't work, I imagine the others will eventually come looking for us," Stephen pointed out.

Quill made a face. "Oh God, no. We need to get out of here before that happens. I do _not_ want to tell them that we're technically married on this planet."

He made a face of his own; considering their banter already… "Good point. In the meantime, I am going to explore the place astrally and see where they have put our things, and see if I can find a way out of here." He lay back on the bed and closed his eyes.

"That's a handy trick. Is it teachable?" Quill asked.

Stephen chose not to answer as he left his physical form and went to explore.

* * *

About three hours, two upturned alien food carts, a stampede of three-foot-tall alien rhinos, and a fight with a very large, ornery space-centipede later, the two men made it back to the pod.

"If anyone asks," Quill started, still breathing heavily, "we were delayed because we needed to kill an Abalisk."

"I don't kill sentient beings," Stephen protested.

"It's hardly sentient; it's an animal, mostly. Giant slug-type thing that fires energy beams. No one's gonna come after you for ridding the world of them."

"I managed to finally portal it into a dimension more suitable for it."

Quill rolled his eyes. "Whatever. C'mon, let's get back to the ship. And let's never come back here again."

"Agreed."

**Author's Note:**

> This was also a fill for the stephenstrangebingo prompt "Married by Accident".


End file.
